I started this at 12am on this night
This is as honest as I get, sometimes I wish I could make it make sense
But all people that are born a genius are counted out as crazy right?
Some sleepless nights and so much doubt in my backpack it started to spill out, if you could see the bulge you’ll see that it can’t fit no more
So it started to spill all over the floor and follow me wherever I go
A big weight on my back that I created myself and all it does is stack and I can’t let go
Most weight comes from me but others stack on anyway to make their load lighter
I’m a quiet person I’m not a fighter but if there was rope to spare I’d wrap it around your neck and squeeze tighter
Til the eyes burst so you can feel my hurt, and the silent pain I carry
I want to let my load off and I finally used it on someone else to make myself feel good
But I feel worse and now we both hurt
To hurt just so yours can have a little taken off
But what about me? I’m just as complex as you
If not worse but you wouldn’t know because all I do is hold and hold until I can’t hold no more
But you’re too blind to see mine has spilt on the floor